


Sip the Honey Sweet

by dietplainlite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Edwardian era, F/M, Fluff, Prince Edward Island, Reylo - Freeform, lm montgomery, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dietplainlite/pseuds/dietplainlite
Summary: Spring, 1902. It's Rey's first day of teaching at Chandrila school on Prince Edward Island. Her perfectly planned morning starts off on the wrong foot, setting her on a completely unexpected path.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smols-darklighter (gallifreydriel)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreydriel/gifts), [Amalia Kensington (amaliak01)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaliak01/gifts).



> This isn't an Anne of Green Gables AU, but it was heavily inspired by the stories of LM Montgomery, who had a particular affinity for orphans, especially of the plucky variety. 
> 
> Montgomery was a huge influence on me from an early age, not just in writing, but how I see the world, so this is a totally self indulgent experiment. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> The draft of this is complete, so it should update regularly.

On the outskirts of Chandrila,  a red brick farm house sat back from the road, its residents sleeping save for one young woman, whose window was open to the warm April night, letting in a soft breeze laced with sea air and jonquils. If she leaned out of the window far enough into the moon bright night, she could make out the sliver of sea that snaked inland between the two fingers of land that made up the bulk of the village to the south. To the north, the scattered lights of other farms and the pale glow of orchards in bloom. Tomorrow, she would take over as teacher at Chandrila school, but tonight she could dream and plan.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself back inside to begin getting ready for bed. As she brushed her hair, she made a plan for the morning. After washing and dressing, she would carefully arrange her hair, using the style in the photo she had tucked in the corner of the mirror frame. She'd torn it out of a discarded magazine left in the sitting room by a former boarder, and practiced it several times until getting its loops and twists down. She'd pin on her new hat at a jaunty angle, one that said grownup, but not stodgy. The angle of someone authoritative, but who wouldn’t say no to dancing a jig at a barn dance, if asked properly.  She would eat breakfast, taking time to enjoy her landlady’s fried eggs with the perfectly crisp edges, then take her coffee out onto the veranda to enjoy the sunrise before setting out on a leisurely stroll to the schoolhouse. As she settled into bed with a book, she thought it might be nice to pick some flowers for her desk on the way. 

In the morning, however, the traitorous sun had very much already risen when Rey startled awake to the sound of Mrs. Kanata yelling last call for breakfast up the stairs. 

Bleary eyed, she looked about her room, which should have been dim and grey but was instead flushed with a pink glow. She remembered the grandfather clock downstairs striking three just as the hero confessed his love for the heroine in her novel. She rubbed her eyes and picked up her alarm clock. The hands stood frozen at half past four. 

“Rey Niima!” Mrs. Kanata shouted again. “The kitchen is closing in five minutes whether you've eaten or not!”

“Coming!” Rey called out as she stumbled out of the bed. She splashed water on her face, yelping as the stinging cold, and began pulling on her petticoats. She said a quick thank you to herself for carefully planning her outfit and laying it out. Her wardrobe didn’t contain many choices, but she had deliberated over it as though she owned a hundred dresses, finally settling on a green and white striped shirtwaist with lace at the collar, her dark grey skirt--not her favorite skirt, but her newest--and of course her little straw hat, the only indulgence she’d allowed herself after she had been offered the teaching position. The green velvet band matched the color of her eyes when the light hit them just right. 

There was no time to do anything with her hair other than run a brush through it a few times and fashion a thick braid in the back. The hat still looked nice, however, and if she hurried, she might be able to fill her flask with coffee and grab a scone on the way out the door. 

She careened down the stairs, finding Mrs. Kanata standing at the back door with a lunch pail, Rey’s flask, and small napkin wrapped bundle in hand. Her landlady had been nothing but kind since Rey arrived a week ago, and her eyes pricked with tears at this additional act. No one, not even the nicer landladies and house mothers at college, had ever cared so much about making sure that she had enough to eat. Rey kissed Mrs. Kanata on her wrinkled brown cheek as she raced out, apologizing for not being able to sit down. She flung her coat on and sprang out the door. Halfway to the gate, the cool spring air crept up her skirts and she stopped. She had forgotten to put on her stockings. 

Here arrived a big decision. She could make it to school right on time if she started immediately, walking at a brisk pace.  If she went inside to put on her stockings, she still stood a good chance of being on time, so long as she ran part of the way. 

No one would ever notice her missing stockings, if she were careful, and she would only have cold toes to show for it. Showing up to school wheezing, out of breath, and disheveled, however, would be shockingly inappropriate, and every parent in Chandrila would  know about it by dinner time tonight. 

“Nothing to it,” Rey said, and headed toward the gate. 

The morning was glorious, the sky deeply blue with streaky clouds, no sign of the slapping sting of coming snow in the wind’s sweet kiss. Only a week ago, when she first arrived in Chandrila, there had been patches of snow on the ground, but as she stepped into the lane from under the cherry trees that framed the gate, she spied that the buds were on the verge of blooming, with little pink points emerging from the green. A glance is all she got, though, and she steadfastly ignored the yellow jonquils and purple crocus lining the road, as well as the trickle of a nearby stream begging her to come take a look. Moving to the center of the lane where it was less soggy, she trudged on, nibbling on the sausage biscuit that Mrs. Kanata wrapped for her. She looked straight ahead, practicing her introductory speech in her head and tuning out  the different calls of birds, all of them delighted for the final thaw. If she turned to look her pace would slow.

Oh, but just there, is that a cluster of late snowdrops underneath that juniper tree? Yes, they were, but she sighed and continued resolutely on her path. So caught up was she in ignoring everything going on around her, that she failed to notice the sound of a horse and cart coming up behind her until it was almost on top of her. 

“Whoa!” 

A deep voice broke through Rey’s reverie, and she turned around and found herself nose to nose with a shiny black horse. It snorted at her and shook its head. 

“Oh my lord!” she cried. She’d never been afraid of horses, quite liked them, in fact, with their soft eyes and long lashes, but encountering one so close, out of nowhere, might frighten even the most experienced horsewoman.  As she stepped back, her heel sank into the wet earth, and while she managed not to fall on her backside, she overcorrected and lurched forward. Instead of falling to the ground, however, she fell against what felt like a tree trunk, but that was impossible, wasn’t it, in the middle of the lane? She looked up, past a black waistcoat and white shirt, into the face of a man. It wasn’t a bad face, what she could see of it in the shadow cast by the brim of his flat cap; handsome, but not in an Arrow Collar Man sort of way. More like a dashing villain from one of her novels, with his odd angles and wide mouth. A mouth that was decidedly unamused. 

“I dropped my breakfast,” she said. For there wasn’t much else she could think to say. 


	2. Chapter 2

The man with the unamused mouth took her by the elbows and helped her stand. He must have leapt from his cart before it had fully stopped, to have been able to catch her. She stood up straight and still had to crane her neck to see his face, which matched his mouth in level of amusement--or lack thereof. 

“What on earth is the matter with you?” he demanded. “If I’d been going any faster, you’d have been trampled, and I hear that’s a terrible way to go.”

“Excuse me, I…” She had no good explanation for why she’d nearly been trampled to death, at least not one that wouldn’t make her look like even more of a fool. “I’m going to be late.”

“For what, tea time at the lunatic asylum?”

Rey’s face burned as she stepped from him. She straightened to her full height and mustered as much dignity as possible.  “For school,” she said.

“Oh,” he said, backing away. “Will you be in very much trouble?” He took out a silver pocket watch and studied it for far longer than it should take to ascertain the time. 

Rey looked down the road and back at the man’s horse and cart. “I wouldn’t if you’d take me,” she blurted out, desperation erasing any sense of propriety. 

His ears went crimson and he fumbled his watch as he put it back in his pocket. “I don’t think that would be appropriate. What would your parents say?”

“My parents?” Why would her parents have anything to say about it, even if they were alive? 

Oh. Her hair. He thought she was a student. Well, he would likely find it far more inappropriate to give a ride to a strange young woman than a schoolgirl, so she decided against correcting him, for now. She placed a trembling hand to her chest and sighed. 

“I’ve been startled so badly that I feel I might faint. Surely it’s appropriate to help a young lady in distress?”

“Well, I--I,” he stuttered. 

Rey placed the back of her hand to her forehead and sighed delicately.

“I suppose I must, then,” he said. “Come on.”  He held out his hand. 

She hesitated at taking it. He only meant to help her up, but she had removed her glove earlier so she wouldn’t get food on it. The food that now lay in the dirt somewhere. She looked back at his hand. It was large and ink stained, though it was no laborer’s hand, bearing minimal scars and calluses, the fingers long and well formed. However, she didn’t have much choice. She placed her hand in his and he gripped it firmly as he helped her up. It was warm,  and her stomach did a funny leap which she attributed to the earlier scare. As she climbed onto the seat, she glanced down at him, and the light hit his eyes so that they looked like honey dripping from a spoon. They were lovely eyes, with a pleasing shape, like playing card diamonds turned on their sides.

“Oh,” she said, and looked away. 

He climbed up after her, sitting as close to the edge as he dared, and took up the reins. They did not speak as they entered a long beech grove. The trees stood stark and straight, their narrow trunks filing past like pages flipped slowly in a book. New grass sprung up everywhere, ruffled by the breeze, which stirred the treetops into a whispered song. 

She looked at her companion, who was looking up through the branches as they moved. A small smile crossed his face, transforming it with deep dimples and a twinkle in his eyes. He looked at her, and it was gone so quickly she wondered if it was a trick of the light. 

“I'm Rey,” she offered.  “Rey Niima.”

A new school teacher would have been big news in such a small town, so she assumed he would recognize the name and realize his mistake in thinking her a student. He might be vexed, but it would be ridiculous to refuse to take her now. The name didn't appear to register, though. 

“Did you move here recently?”

“Yes.”

“From the mainland?”

“Yes, New Brunswick, from a little town called Jakku. You’ve probably never heard of it. No one has, and that’s all the better.” She shuddered at the thought of it, all mud and cold, pale skies, the snow that seemed to set in before the previous winter’s had finished thawing. She hadn’t known what it was like to have warm hands until she’d settled in at Charlottetown in the boarding house with the vine covered chimney, sitting in the faded armchair in  the first room she’d ever had of her own, her palms were warmed by a mug of tea, and her fingers warmed by the little fire, which had been burning when the landlady showed her in. The room had barely been big enough for the bed, chair, and a dresser, but no matter where she ever lived in this world--and she intended to live in some very grand places--nothing would ever feel more like a palace than that tiny room under the eaves. 

“I’ve heard of it,” he said. 

Rey looked at him sharply. “You’re not just being polite, are you?”

“Polite? Never,” he said, that shadow of a smile crossing his features again. “You’re correct, though, it would be better if I hadn’t heard of it. My uncle and I were stranded there once, years ago. I’ve never seen so much mud, before or since.”

“Well,” Rey said, an odd sense of pride washing over her, “The marshes can be quite lovely, even in winter. Especially in winter, actually, since the mud is frozen and the snow makes everything look clean.” It had, in fact, been beautiful in winter, at least for the first month or so. After the New Year, the remainder of winter stretched to a horizon that blended with the sky, and by March, she felt as though her soul was as desolate as the landscape, spiked with jagged brown spears of naked trees. 

“We were there in early spring.”

The worst time of year, between the last snowfall and the first hint of green, when the mud was thickest and a low mist hung over everything. That, too, was beautiful in it's own way, she supposed, especially at dawn when it was lit up golden and the only sound was the rushing of newly awakened streams. No, the land wasn't ugly, only her circumstances. 

She didn't respond to his statement, lost in her memories, and he didn't attempt to continue their conversation. For this she was grateful, because it meant he wouldn’t ask if she still had family on the mainland. She wouldn’t have to tell him she had no people anywhere, that she knew of, and wouldn’t have to see his face turn to pity like it always did when someone learned she was an orphan. She wouldn’t have to think about how long she’d waited for them to come back, spinning stories about what they could be doing, why they couldn’t come back right away, no matter how much they truly wanted to come for her. 

By the time she left for Queen’s Academy, her hope had dissipated like the mist over the marshes in the midday sun, though she still left a letter with instructions to find her at the post office. She had not sent word to update that information when she left Charlottetown for Chandrila. If they were truly out there and wanted to find her, they would. 

Rey looked over at him, eyes tracing the sharp angle of his jaw and the slope of his nose. His hair was as black as his horse’s coat, and just as shiny, and she imagined him in a frock coat and cravat, with wild hair and eyes, looking out over a stormy moor. She wasn't entirely sure what a moor looked like, but it must look something like a windswept prairie in December, right before the snow fell.

“Do I have something on my face?” he said, not taking his eyes off the road. 

Rey looked forward, cheeks burning furiously. “No. I, um, I was going to ask you a question and then I forgot what it was.”

“My name is Ben Solo, if that's what you meant to ask.” He paused, the corner of his mouth turning up. “The horse is called Nancy.”

His surname sounded familiar, but she couldn't remember where she'd heard it; she had met so many people in the past week. It hovered at the edge of her memory, but the road curved out of the grove, abruptly meeting up with the shore, and Rey forgot completely as she gazed across the grass covered dunes out to the sea. 

“I can't believe I get to pass this every day,” she sighed. Jakku was inland, far enough from the coast that a trip to the sea may as well have been a trip to the moon. Her first time seeing it had been at the port where she caught the ferry to the island, and despite the hustle and steam and yelling, and the grey sky and water, it had been thrilling and beautiful all the same.

Every view she saw thereafter was the most beautiful, from the first time she saw the harbour from Victoria Park, with the sun setting behind the mainland, to her first look at a sunrise over the Gulf, her world exploding with new colors and scents and sensations. 

Ben stopped the cart and they sat, her haste to get to school momentarily forgotten.

“I've lived here all my life and I can't believe it sometimes.” He blushed and looked away, flicking the reins. 

“You were born here?”

“Yes, in that house. Alderaan.” He pointed across the inlet to a yellow house with red shutters sitting atop a headland. A porch wrapped all the way around and it was topped with a cupola, so one could look out any window, sit anywhere on the porch, and have a spectacular view of land or sea.

“Alderaan,” Rey repeated. Alderaan. That also seemed familiar.

“My mother named it after the city where she was born. She had to leave when she was young.”

“Oh!” She said, turning to him. “Mrs. Organa-Solo. The writer! She was at my welcome reception. When she found out I wanted to write, she told me I must come to Alderaan for tea.”

“Did she now?” He replied, wryly. 

“Yes. Is she your mum?”

“Yes,” he said, pressing his lips together. “Wait, your welcome reception? Are you visiting royalty or something? Should I call you “your highness?”

Rey blushed, caught out by her own carelessness. She considered spinning a tale about being an English duchess, sent away to break up an unacceptable love match, but decided on the truth.

“I'm the new school teacher,” she said, simply.

He looked at her, taking her in anew. “How old are you? Forgive me, but you don't look a day over sixteen.”

“I'm nearly twenty. My birthday is in July. But many teachers take their first school at sixteen or seventeen. You only have to be fifteen to attend Queen's Academy.”

“I'm aware. Only, when people I knew were going off, it didn't seem so young.”

“I admit I'm a little nervous about the older students respecting me. I meant to wear my hair up, at least, but I woke up late.”

“We never had a teacher younger than thirty when I went to school. It seemed impossibly old then, but here I am creeping up on it and I feel like I don't have any greater grasp on how people or the world work.”

They drove along in silence as the road followed the coastline before turning to cut between two fields, the final leg of the journey. 

“You understand that people will talk about my giving you a ride?” He asked, when the schoolhouse came into view. “I'm not known for being friendly or neighborly, but it hasn't stopped the good Presbyterian mothers of Chandrila from setting their sights on me. Seems my mother's money is either enough to soothe their fears over their daughters’ souls, or they have confidence that a pretty smile and perfect homemaking are the path to my salvation.”

“Are you Methodist?” Rey asked. She knew from Mrs. Kanata that there was a frightful amount of bickering and strife between the Methodists and Presbyterians. 

No,” he said. He glanced at her, brow furrowed and eyes dark and worried, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Oh,” she said. “Well, I intend to make it clear that I have no interest in catching a husband.”

“Good luck with that,” he said.

“Convincing them, or somehow catching a husband against my will?”

“Both.”

“I see,” she said, as the school bell pealed into the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments on the first chapter! I'm glad others have enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it.


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived with five minutes to spare, and the children were playing or standing around the school yard as though it were an ordinary morning. Smoke curled from the chimney already, thanks to Joph, a final year boy who had been entrusted with a key to the building for that purpose. Rey had met him at her reception, and he had assured her that he would not fail in his task, or that of ringing the bell ten minutes before start, and at the start of class. His manner was so serious that Rey had believed him immediately. He nodded to her, now, as he carried a stack of wood into the building. 

Rey almost wished that the rest of the students were inside waiting for her, rather than gathered outside, as they all fell quiet as Ben Solo brought the wagon to a stop. Without looking at them, Ben leapt from his seat and came around to help her down. This time, she didn’t hesitate to take his hand, but that didn’t prevent the odd sensation in her stomach when she touched him. 

“Thank you, Mr. Solo,” she said, a bit too loudly. “You were quite a lifesaver back there and I’m forever grateful.”

He nodded and touched the brim of his cap. Grim faced, he got back onto the wagon seat without saying a word, then drove away without acknowledging the children. 

“Well!” Rey said, turning to her pupils. “I apologize for my near lateness. I had a bit of a mishap in the lane, but Mr. Solo was kind enough to offer his assistance. Now come along inside and we’ll all get to know each other a bit better.”

Once inside, the students took their seats and Rey gave her well-rehearsed speech. She knew it by rote, so she was able to observe her charges while she spoke. 

A few of the older girls looked her over with some suspicion. Queen's students were warned that their older pupils might see them as romantic rivals, or, more commonly in the case of male teachers, as romantic prospects. The girls of Chandrila had more reason than most to be wary, as their former teacher had run away with one of the town's most eligible young men, which is how Rey ended up taking over the school halfway through the spring term. 

Rey knew that she was considered good looking, though some qualified that by saying she was quite good looking for someone so thin. A Gibson Girl she was not, but who was, really?  She had fine eyes and was not overburdened with freckles, and once she got away from Jakku and had regular meals, her hair had grown in quite long and lustrous. Still, she doubted she would turn the heads of the men of Chandrila as there were any number of young ladies with sparkling blue eyes and honey colored hair who would make much more desirable candidates for marriage.

As she told Ben Solo, she would need to somehow make it as clear as possible that she was here to teach, and that was all. Her primary strategy would be to lament about her lack of housekeeping or cooking ability whenever possible. A complete falsehood, but one that could hopefully be forgiven. 

After her speech, she had the students introduce themselves, which not only let her learn their names, but get a glimpse of their personalities. She had twenty of them, aged six to sixteen, with twelve girls and eight boys. There were farm children as well as town children, which Rey thought reflected well on the town. In Jakku, children of lesser means had to fight tooth and nail to come to school, and often, even if they could be spared from working, they weren’t made to feel welcome. 

The day went by faster than she could have imagined, and by the end of it, she was certain she had won most of the children to her side. Having been a mischief maker herself as a girl, and also the victim of more than  few pranks, she anticipated many of their tricks, and those she didn't anticipate, she took in stride. When a frog was left on her chair after lunch, she picked it up and called it a fine specimen before starting an impromptu lesson on metamorphosis, and when she opened the box of chalk to find half a dozen crickets, merely asked if they were meant to be the frog's supper.

Most importantly, she managed to get through the day without revealing she wasn't wearing stockings. That alone made the day a massive success. 

One girl in particular took an immediate and intense liking to Miss Niima. At eleven, Lucy Antilles was short for her age, but quite sturdy, with a sweet round face and large brown eyes rimmed with spiky dark eyelashes. The girl wandered into Rey’s orbit any chance she got. Rey suspected at first that Lucy might not have any friends, but it seemed she was actually quite a favorite with most of the girls. At the end of the day, however, she stayed behind to help Rey tidy up the classroom rather than walk home with her friends. 

“All the girls were talking about how Mr. Ben Solo gave you a ride to school,” she said as they washed the blackboard.

“Was it really so odd?” Rey asked. “He was only being polite.”

“That’s it, Miss, he’s not usually very polite at all. My father is a carpenter, and he fixed the porch at Alderaan after a big storm two years ago. All us kids were helping and Mrs. Solo was so nice but Mr. Ben Solo stormed about the place in an awful temper. He had only come back from the west right after Christmas so I’d never met him before. He never yelled at us or anything, but he seemed vexed about our presence and barely had two words for Papa.”

“That’s a shame,” Rey ventured, not wanting to talk ill of a virtual stranger, or encourage the idea that he had treated her with great favor. 

“I think he’s very sad, more than angry, but no one knows why. Mama says there must have been a girl out west, but Papa thinks it was something to do with his uncle since Mr. Skywalker hasn't been back in all this time.”

“That may well be,” Rey said, “but perhaps we should leave Mr. Solo with his secrets and let him reveal them when he’s ready.”

“Oh, of course, Ma'am. I don't mean to gossip.”

“I know you don't. Well, we’re all finished here. Thank you for your help, Lucy.”

Little Lucy walked home with Rey part of the way, turning off down a lane lined with purple lupins a quarter mile from school. Rey continued, pondering what the girl had told her about Mr. Solo, and whether she should ask Maz Kanata to tell her more, or to respect his privacy and let it be. 

That decision turned out to be out of Rey's hands, however, as Maz had already heard about her morning adventure. 

“You certainly have the ladies of town in a tizzy,” she said as she plonked a mug of tea down in front of Rey at the kitchen table, followed by a plate of cookies. “Ben Solo hasn't said so much as ‘Hello’ to any woman younger than forty since he's been home, and now he's giving rides to the new schoolmarm.”

“Mrs. Kanata--”

“Maz,” the landlady sighed.

“Maz. I was running late and was quite winded. Surely even the worst misanthrope's obligation as a gentleman wouldn't leave a lady to faint on the road?”

“You'd be surprised, but I think you're right. Ben Solo was raised to be a gentleman, that much is true, whether he bothers himself to act like it or not. He was such a sweet little boy. Would come down here because he loved that little stream behind the apple orchard and always brought me bits of sea glass and shells and other things he’d find on the beach, and he could spin the most wonderful stories. That served him well, I suppose.”

“How do you mean?” Rey asked. 

“He’s a writer, though nothing like what his mother writes. He’s in the pulp magazines mostly, stories about vampires and detectives, sometimes in the same story. He publishes under a nomme de plume. Styles himself ‘Kylo Ren.’”

Rey’s eyes widened as she bit into her cookie. For much of her early life, she didn’t have a choice about what she read. She devoured whatever she could find, and often that was in the form of discarded story papers and dime novels, which she read until they fell apart. The name Kylo Ren didn’t ring any bells, but this detail about Ben Solo intrigued her more than anything else she had learned about him. 

“Do you have any of his stories?”

“I believe I do. I’ll take a look after supper.”

Later that night, as Rey got ready for bed, Maz brought in a large stack of magazines from the upstairs hall closet and set them on Rey’s bedside table. 

“These are mostly newer things,  _ Argosy  _ and the like, but there are some early stories too. I believe he got published for the first time when he was about seventeen. Don’t stay up too late again, though. I had half a mind not to give these to you until the morning.”

“I promise I won’t stay up too late.”

Rey double checked that her clock was wound before settling in bed with the magazines. She put the newer ones aside and thumbed through a copy of  _ Exhilarating Tales for Children _ from 1890. Kylo Ren had a story in it, but it was the last part of a twelve part series, so she chose another one, from the following year. The cover was missing, but as she started flipping through, some of it seemed familiar. Her heart started beating faster when she got to the featured story and saw the illustration, of a young boy lying on a rock, looking dreamily into the water at a beautiful mermaid with shells in her long, wavy hair.

In an instant, Rey was no longer in her cozy room in Chandrila, under a heavy blue and white quilt with a sleepy orange cat lying at her feet. She was sitting in the corner of an attic, hiding from Mr. Plutt, who was out of whiskey and in a rage. She’d found the story paper in the trash bin behind the general store and had stashed it in the garret room where she slept until she had a moment to read it. The featured story, “Benjamin and the Seashell Princess,” was different from any story she had read before. Benjamin was a lonely boy who lived in a land with no other children, due to a witch’s curse, allowing only one child to be born every twenty one years. He was cherished and protected by all the grown ups around him, but longed for a companion his own age. When not studying with his tutor, he spent most of his time by the sea with his imaginary friends, always within view of his house on the hill. 

One evening, as the sun slipped over the horizon, he heard someone singing as he made his way back to his house. The sound came from the end of the jetty, and none of his imaginary friends could sing like that, so he went out to investigate, even though he was supposed to be home by dark. When he got to the end of the jetty, he looked down to discover a beautiful girl in the water, with deep black hair decorated with rainbow colored shells, unlike any he’d ever seen washed up on the shore. He told her his name, but when he asked for hers, she told him she had to be home before the moon rose, but she would tell him if he came back the next morning. 

Rey had been called away on some chore before she could finish, and all through the evening the idea of finding out what would happen, what the ocean girl’s name was, kept her going despite the wet and chill. When she got back to her room, however, she found that another leak had sprung, soaking her bedding and leaving her magazines in a sodden lump. The cheap paper had turned to mush and there was no saving it even if she left it to dry.  She had cried bitterly over it and had never come across another copy, didn’t even remember the author’s name. Some of her first writing efforts had been attempts to write an ending, but they never satisfied her. Eventually she stopped thinking about it very often, after she had access to a real library, but every once in awhile, she would think about Benjamin and his princess, and felt a vague hurt, like poking a bruise. 

Here, though, she had not only been given a chance to finish the story, but the very man who wrote it, who could be said to be responsible for sparking her interest in writing, lived only a few miles away.

Rey sat with the magazine clutched to her chest, afraid to move lest it disappear.  When she finally began to read, her hands shook so that she thought the fragile paper would tear. She took a deep breath and began. 

The beginning was much as she remembered it, but she had to pause when she got to the point where she left off. What if it wasn’t as good as she had imagined? What if it ended sadly? Would waiting more than ten years for the ending,then being disappointed be worse than never finding out the ending at all?

She got up and went to the window, opening it to feel the breeze on her fevered cheeks. The yellow house where Ben Solo lived wasn’t visible, but she looked in its direction anyway, just in time to see a shooting star streak across the sky. It was all the encouragement she needed. She made her way back to bed, stopping to get the tin of cookies she stashed under the bed. She sat upright, crossed legged, with the pages spread in front of her on the quilt, and stepped back into the story, and back in time. 

_ The next morning dawned grey and misty, and Benjamin wondered if his friend would stay away. He bundled up in his warmest sweater, and after eating enough of his porridge to satisfy both his mother and the cook, he raced down the hill and out to the end of the jetty.  _

_ “Hello!” he called to the dark head and golden shoulders popping out of the water. “I’m back. Tell me your name?” _

_ The girl laughed, a sound like the wind chimes hanging in the kitchen garden, and smiled. “Hello, Benjamin. I did promise, and so I’ll tell you. My name is Aurelia.” _


	4. Chapter 4

Rey opened her eyes to a view of spun sugar clouds floating past the window in a grey pre-dawn sky. She rolled over to find she had woken up three minutes before her alarm. She turned it off and stretched, inhaling the smells of bacon, fresh bread and coffee. The dimples in her cheeks deepened as she remembered last night’s discovery.

Aurelia was as lonely as Benjamin, as she was only allowed to play with other royal children, and all of her sisters had gone away to be married. She figured out how to slip away from her tutor, who liked to give Aurelia long reading assignments before sneaking off to take a nap. If she were ever to notice that Aurelia had left, she wouldn’t be able to tattle, because the princess would just tattle on her right back. 

At the end of a week of visits, during which she and Benjamin taught each other games and songs and stories,  she asked Benjamin to come see her home. When he protested that he couldn’t breathe under water, she laughed and told him she would take care of it. She sang a song, sweeter and lighter than the one she sang the night they met, and when Benjamin plunged into the water, he had a moment of panic, but soon realized he could breathe, though he wasn’t sure how. 

They swam out to a large rock where fat happy seals sunned themselves, and dove down until they came to fissure in the rock. Aurelia pulled him through a long tunnel lined with seaweed, until they emerged in the kingdom of Otoh Gunga. Aurelia showed him the palace where she lived, sneaking him into her room past the sleeping tutor. They had tea, made from precious flowers that grew just below the surface, and Benjamin found the odd little cakes and sandwiches delicious, though he didn’t ask what they were made of. Benjamin had so much fun that he lost track of time, and when he emerged from the waves at sunrise, he found his mother walking along the beach, desperately searching the shore, her eyes dark and sad. When she saw him, she snatched him into her arms and held him tight, pleading with him to never go away again. He apologized for not coming home before sunset, and she wept and told him he had been gone an entire week. 

Benjamin’s family sent him away after that, for his own protection, but he managed to sneak away to meet Aurelia the morning he was to leave. They pledged to meet in the same place again on his twenty-first birthday. 

The story ended there, to be continued, but the second part did not appear in any later issues, and Rey recalled that the magazine had gone out of publication later that same year. She had been sorely disappointed because she liked it better than any of the others. 

Rey mused on it while she ate her breakfast. She would have to seek out Ben Solo again, to ask him if he ever finished it, and how it ended. Surely, Aurelia and Benjamin were reunited, and found a way to be together. 

No seeking out was needed, however, for when she got to the gate, she stopped in surprise to see Ben Solo waiting in his cart, reading a book.

“Hello?” She said.

He looked up and smiled, then must have immediately thought better of it, as he let it drop. 

“I had another errand for my mother this morning, so I figured I could take you to school on my way home. If you'd like, that is.”

Rey had been looking forward to a more leisurely stroll this morning, and she felt rather more shy around him than she expected, despite her desire to know the story’s ending. She might not get another chance to speak to him, though, so when he hopped down and extended his hand, she accepted it.

She didn't bring up the story until they were in the birch grove. She felt less exposed, as though they were speaking to each other in a room rather than outdoors. 

“Maz gave me some of your writing,” she ventured. 

He groaned and ducked his head. 

“No, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. I grew up on those kinds of stories. I wouldn't have learned to read without them. Also, there was one I started years ago and never finished. The mermaid one.”

He turned his head sharply at this. “‘The Seashell Princess?’”

“Yes,” she said, and told the story of how the magazine had been lost. 

He remained quiet for a long time after, not speaking until he stopped the cart at the overlook. He pointed to a rock in the distance, off the beach below his house. 

“That's the entrance to the kingdom of Otoh Gunga. That whole story was something I wished for so hard. Aurelia was one of my imaginary friends.”

Rey had guessed that he was the boy in his story, and that it was personal. She had written herself into more stories than she could count. Stories with loving parents and warm beds and vases full of flowers on all the tables, and baskets full of kittens by the hearth. Ben Solo had grown up with all of those things and still his heart longed for something more. 

“The worst thing for a child is to feel alone. I don't want any of my students to ever feel that way, if I can help it.”

“They're lucky,” he said. 

“Did you ever finish it?”

“The magazine decided to cancel the second part before I started writing it. They knew they were shuttering, and wanted to make sure there was room for their long term serials to conclude.”

“How did it end?” she asked, placing her hand on his arm. “You don’t have to go into detail, but tell me if they reunited, if they were able to be together.”

He looked down at her hand, resting in the crook of his elbow. Rey blushed and placed her hand back in her lap.

“Of course they were together,” he said. “It was a fairytale.”

“Of course,” Rey repeated.  Ben flicked the reins and they were on their way. 

Again, they finished the drive in silence, allowing Rey to wonder at every budding rose and blooming daisy, to take in the romping spring lambs and rich red overturned earth in the fields. The only student at the schoolhouse when they arrived was Joph, once again occupied with carrying wood. She thanked Ben again and went inside.

The second day was as successful as the first, with the naughtier students pulling back on their tricks and the more reserved ones testing their boundaries. After lunch, she took the younger students to the brook to look for tadpoles while the older ones worked on essays. 

Lucy Antilles stayed to help her again at the end of the day, but when they came out, Ben was waiting in the yard, slicing an apple and alternating eating a slice with feeding one to Nancy. Lucy stood gaping for a moment before running toward home with a giggled goodbye.

“Another errand in town?” Rey asked, gesturing toward the cart.

“No,” he said, “but if I came for you in a gig, people might talk.”

“I think they already are.”

His eyes darkened and he ran his hand down the horse's neck. “Well, I suppose we shouldn't give them any more reason. They'll find something new to gossip about soon. Would you like a lift?”

“Definitely,” she said. The day had been satisfying, but also thoroughly exhausting. She looked forward to a hot dinner and an evening by the fire. Maz had promised to show her how to crochet, and she had an idea for a story brewing.

Ben was much more talkative on this drive, and she peppered him with questions about his writing, and about being published. His answers were thoughtful, though sprinkled with a wry humour that took a bit of getting used to. By the time he dropped her off at the gate, she was certain she had made a friend. Her soul wrapped around this idea, like a hand around a warm, smooth stone. Friendships were rare gifts, and she desperately missed the few she made at Queen's. She spent so much of her first few months learning to be a proper lady--well, as proper a lady as she could ever hope to be--that she missed out on all the fast forming kinship that occurs at the start of a term. 

In the morning, he was at the gate again, dropping all pretense of an errand for his mother, despite still driving the empty cart. She got in without a word, offering him the extra cookie she had packed,  just in case. 

That afternoon, he was in the yard when she locked the schoolhouse doors, only this time, he drove a gleaming black gig. 

“I don't think it's fair to Nancy to have to pull the cart every day, do you?”

“No,” Rey said. “We must use the carriage. For Nancy's sake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I revised some of my chapter divisions and got a couple of new ideas so it's going to end up being longer than 5 chapters. I'm sure everyone's terribly disappointed. 
> 
> It did take a little longer than I thought to update this time because it took longer to recover from oral surgery than I thought it would, but an update a week is still not bad!
> 
> Thank you again for all your beautiful comments!


	5. Chapter 5

Within days, the two developed a routine,  Ben waiting for Rey in the morning at the gate, and in the school yard in the afternoon, Ben driving Nancy at a leisurely place, always stopping at the overlook to watch the waves for a few minutes. This went on for weeks, though they never saw each other outside of the half hour in the morning and afternoon. 

One Friday, as they approached Takodana Farm, Rey asked if Ben would like to stay for dinner. 

“I made the pie and bread for tonight, and I think it’s the least I can do, for your kindness.”

Ben smiled. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a meal at Takodana, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it home before sunset.”

“Will your mother think you’ve run away with a mermaid princess?”

“No, but she won’t be pleased if I’m not there to light the Shabbat candles.”

“Oh!” Rey said, as pieces started to fall into place. His not being Methodist, the grudging approval of the Presbyterian mothers, and the other morning, when she extolled the virtues of frying eggs in bacon drippings for ten minutes and he only nodded politely. “I’m so silly. Forgive me.”

Ben shrugged as he stopped the cart. “I wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the information.”

“Well, you didn’t need to be. I don’t go around telling people right away that I’m an orphan--not that being Jewish is like being an orphan--but it’s something people have ideas about and will judge you for without knowing you, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would say that’s comparable.”

“You should come to dinner during the week, then, or on a Sunday.”

“Promise to give Maz at least a day’s notice and it’s a deal.”

Before dinner could be arranged, however,  Maz had to leave for Toronto suddenly, to take care of an ailing relative, leaving Rey alone in the house. It would not have been appropriate to invite a man to dinner, though she hoped that Mrs. Organa-Solo would extend the promised invitation to tea. 

The one week that Maz expected to be gone turned into two, three, and then a full month. The rides to and from school with Ben Solo continued, though the invitation to Alderaan never materialized. 

“Does your mother know that we’re friends?” Rey asked one morning while they sat watching the ocean. 

“Of course,” Ben said. “Though I’ll admit she heard about it in town before I told her.”

“Oh,” Rey said, looking at her hands. 

“I wasn’t trying to hide it from her,” Ben quickly added. “I never had the chance. That’s how fast gossip travels in this town.”

Rey laughed at that, her spirits perking up again. Only two days ago, a student had said that according to her mother’s sewing circle, Rey and Ben were practically engaged. 

Maz returned at the beginning of May, and that same Friday, Ben asked if he could call on her that Sunday. 

“There's something I want to show you, but I wanted to wait until Maz returned, because we have to walk a ways to get there.” 

His ears turned red at merely suggesting that they would do anything improper, and Rey agreed immediately, to set him at ease.  When Rey told Maz, she replied that of course she would trust Ben Solo to escort a young woman on a walk safely. 

Sunday afternoon found Rey waiting at the gate long before the agreed upon time. The morning, as fine and perfect as it was, had crawled by, lengthened by Rey's curiosity at what Ben Solo might want to show her. She thought she would crawl out of her skin at church. The sermons bored her to distraction on the best day, but looking out the window at such a beautiful day had been near torture today. At home, Maz had finally sat her down with a bowl of peas to shell to keep her from wandering aimlessly around the house and garden.

It would be the first time they would see each other outside of his ferrying her to and from school, and though she told herself she shouldn't read anything into it, she couldn't help wondering what it could mean. Taking her to school could be an act of kindness he would extend to anyone, despite his reputation for introversion. Seeking out her company on a Sunday, however, meant he at least considered her a friend, and wanting to do something he thought she might like meant he had thought of her outside of the time they spent together in the morning and afternoon.

At the agreed upon time, she spotted him coming around the bend, on foot. Rey realized she had never really seen him walking. She knew he was tall, from all the times he had helped her up and down from his wagon, but seeing him from a distance somehow brought it into perspective. His gait was confident, his strides long. He wore a green sweater with a shawl collar,  a grey cap, and carried a canvas satchel strapped across his broad chest. 

“Did you bring a picnic?” Rey asked as he approached.

“Of a sort. A flask of tea and some saltwater taffy.”

“Sounds perfect,” Rey said, though she had never actually eaten saltwater taffy, it always sounded dreamy and perfect. 

Ben offered his arm and she only hesitated a moment before looping her arm through it. He was solid and warm, and if she wanted to lean her head against his shoulder, it would be at the perfect height to do so.  They started out in the direction of the school, but as they neared the end of the birch grove, he guided them right, onto a dirt path rimmed densely with bright green ferns, golden marsh marigolds, and wild lily of the valley. The light had begun to mellow, and it flowed through the trees in shafts, making the dust and pollen sparkle. The path cut through the grove for a quarter of a mile and into an apple orchard, in full, lacy bloom. The orchard opened up onto a tree dotted meadow. Set in the center was an enormous maple tree. 

She stopped, staring in awe. The tree looked like the very top of a tree that had been buried in the ground, lying like an opened hand with several thick trunks spreading out around two center ones that shot high into the air. He led her underneath a canopy of lush green leaves,  where the trunks bent and curved, forming arcs and benches and bridges. The ground beneath, softened by a rich fall of last year’s leaves, in yellow and orange and brown, gave off the richest, earthiest scent as their feet fell on them. 

“I came here all the time when I was a kid. It could be anything I wanted. A castle, an underground cavern, a time machine, anything.”

Rey explored as he talked, first around the edges, then cutting to the center. She stepped up onto a thick branch that lay close to the ground, reaching for his hand when he offered it, walking along it as he walked beside her on the ground.  At the end he took her by the waist and helped her down. She had never been so close to him before, and her breath caught as she stepped away. 

Ben pulled a lap blanket from his bag and laid it over the branch, then took out the taffy, a rainbow in a bag, smelling sweet, like every fruit and no particular fruit at once. He gave her a pale red piece wrapped in wax paper, and she closed her eyes as she chewed.  

“I thought it would be salty,” she said. “Is that silly?”

“No,” he said. “I thought the same thing.”

They sat in silence watching the meadow as the light turned golden. Birds began gathering in the branches, calling to each other that the day was ending. At some secret signal that neither of them were precisely aware of, they turned to each other. Ben smiled and  reached out, wiping a bit of taffy from the side of her mouth with his thumb. Rey gasped and took his hand as they leaned into each other. 

Rey had never been kissed before, at least not a real kiss, only brief stolen ones during games of tag when she was small. A long time ago she told herself to stop wishing for it, though she never could quite stop imagining herself in the place of the heroines in the novels she read. She never imagined anything could be as soft as Ben’s lips, or as gentle as his hands on her face. When they parted, he took her hand and kissed it, too, in the center of her palm. 

“I should get you home before dark,” he whispered. 

“Yes,” was all she could manage. 

He held her hand as they walked across the twilit field, fireflies rising from the tall grass along with the occasional startled meadowlark. The apple orchard was still and ghostly as the birds quieted their song, the blossoms blushing pink and purple under the painted sky. He stopped her when they reached the center and kissed her again, his hands resting on her waist this time. After, she plucked a blossom from a tree and wove it through the buttonhole on his sweater collar, and he took one and tucked it into her hair. 

The sun hung low in the sky as they came around the last bend in the road before Takodana. They parted at the gate, and while he did not kiss her again, he held her hand as he walked away, not breaking contact until the last moment. 

“May I call on you again?” he asked. 

“Please.” 

He smiled and walked backward a few steps before turning and walking into the dusk, hands in his pockets, whistling a happy tune. 

Rey floated into the house, sat dreamily through a dinner she barely touched, and slept the sleep of one who has been out of doors all day and has been thoroughly adored. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I was waiting for artwork to go with this chapter, but it won't be ready for awhile longer so I felt there was no need to delay the update any longer.


	6. Chapter 6

“Do you think one day, teachers won’t have to quit working when they get married?” Rey sat at the kitchen table, gazing at the piece of sausage speared on her fork. 

“Women used to not be teachers at all, so I suppose anything is possible,” Maz said. “Do you have a specific reason for asking?”

“Not really. Only, I’ve been thinking about how, if teachers were allowed to stay on after they married, I would never have gotten this job and wouldn’t be sitting here now. Who knows where I’d be.”

“Well, then, we’re all fortunate that Miss Connix was so taken with Mr. Dameron.”

“Didn’t you like her?”

“She was lovely, but you’re a better cook,” Maz said, winking. She picked up her plate and Rey’s and took them to the sink. “You’d better be off or your gentleman will be kept waiting.”

Rey smiled. For a few seconds, she had forgotten about Ben, which seemed impossible, considering she had recalled their entire evening in her mind until she fell asleep, and ever since she woke up. Seeing him this morning would be the sweetest thing. She knew it wouldn’t be proper for him to kiss her again out in the open, but sitting next to him and knowing that he had, and that he might want to, would be almost enough. 

She expected him to be waiting when she went out, since she was running late, but he wasn’t at the gate when she got there, nor could she see him coming up the road. It was odd, but he had been a bit late a few times. 

“There must be something urgent going on at home,” Rey thought, when she didn’t see him after five minutes. Maz refused to get a telephone put in, so there would have been no way to alert her. She put it out of her mind and started off on foot, enjoying the fresh perspective from the ground. She had to hurry a bit, but he would still catch up if he were on his way. 

When he didn’t show up at the end of the day, Rey became worried that something was seriously wrong, and resolved to ask Maz if she had heard anything. 

Maz wasn’t home when Rey arrived, however, and there was a note on the counter asking Rey to begin preparing dinner. It was a simple roast chicken with vegetables, which Rey could do in her sleep, though she was still getting used to using real butter and fresh herbs. The chicken was in the oven and Rey had finished wiping the work table down when Maz came through the door. She immediately dropped her parcels on the table and came over to Rey, taking her hands. 

“My dear child, I’m so sorry. If I’d known what had happened, I would have moved my errands and been here.”

A cold chill travelled down Rey’s spine. Something  _ had  _ happened to Ben, or to his mother. “Maz, what are you talking about? What’s happened?”

Maz’s eyes grew wide behind her thick spectacles, and she sat down hard in a chair. “Do you mean to say that he left without saying goodbye? It’s worse than I imagined.”

Rey sunk down to the floor in front of Maz, staring blankly ahead. “What do you mean, left without saying goodbye?” The chill had settled in her bones, along with a sick, oily feeling in her stomach. She knew what Maz was going to say, but she refused to believe it. She had to hear it. 

“I ran into Leia Organa in town, and she told me that Ben left for the mainland this afternoon, went to catch the train in Charlottetown.”

“This afternoon?”  He would have had time to come see her this morning, but he hadn’t. “For how long?” she asked, a tiny, appalling bit of hope surfacing in her heart, though she knew that Maz would not have reacted so strongly if he were only going away for a few days. It would have been rude, and perplexing for him to not say goodbye to Rey, but not the catastrophe written on Maz’s face. 

“Indefinitely, dear,” Maz said. She placed her hand on Rey’s cheek and that tiny gesture broke Rey’s last measure of reserve. She lowered her head into her landlady’s lap and sobbed. 

* * *

 

A fortnight passed, during which Rey walked through the world as if through a thick fog. She walked to and from school every day, she taught her classes, and she even managed to put on her bright smile and drum up enough enthusiasm to keep her students engaged. However, the more astute children noticed that when Rey thought she was alone, or when all the young heads were bowed over their work, Miss Niima’s mask would slip, her dejection plain on her face. A few of the older girls commented behind her back how the teacher’s looks were fading, the bloom gone from her cheeks. Such a shame, they said. She had been quite pretty. 

On the last day of school, Lucy Antilles gave her a little handmade book, tied with a purple satin ribbon.  Rey thanked her, tears springing to her eyes, and excused herself, saying she needed to take a supply inventory. 

The day after the term ended, Rey tied up her hair in a scarf, put on her work dress, and assisted Maz in giving the house a good cleaning, as she was expecting a new pair of boarders at the end of the week, an artist couple who came to the island every summer. Rey lost herself in the drudgery, the daydreams coming out of a habit formed in her earliest years. While scrubbing the baseboards in the front hall, she moved the sideboard out of the way. Behind it, one corner wedged into the space between the board and the wall, was a letter, addressed to Rey. 

She had never seen Ben Solo’s handwriting, but somehow, she knew from the sharp, precise lines that the letter was from him. The mail was always left on the sideboard, to be sorted through as people arrived home. That this had fallen behind was a cruel twist of an already sharp knife. How long ago had it been sent, and would what it contained make things better, or worse? 

With little thought of a destination, she walked outside and behind the house, through the yard to the flower garden. It was bordered on one side by a low wall and on the other three by a honeysuckle hedge. Toward the back sat a little bench, where Rey liked to go read. Bees buzzed lazily among the richly scented flowers.  With shaking hands, Rey opened the letter. It was a single page, the black spikes of ink filling it top to bottom. 

 

_ Dearest Rey, _

_ I don’t know how to begin this. There is no gentle way to begin this, because there’s nothing gentle in what I’ve done. I know it was a cruel and unforgivable act. In a way, I count on it being unforgivable.  _

_ The time we spent together Sunday afternoon were the most wonderful hours of my life, outside of the time we spent together on the road between Takodana and your schoolhouse. After I said goodbye, for the first quarter mile, I experienced a rapture the likes of which I’ve never felt, as though my very soul had ascended. Then, the  further away I got from you, my hope dimmed as quickly as the lingering warmth of your body and your kisses. I love you, so fervently, so deeply, like I never dreamed I would ever love someone, and I let myself believe that it was enough, that it wouldn’t matter how truly terrible I am, that I would be able to make you happy merely because I love you so much, but it’s not enough, not truly. I know that my leaving will hurt you, but not as much as I would eventually hurt you if I stayed. You’re young, and you’ll forget me soon enough, when someone who deserves you comes along.  _

_ Love, forever and always,  _

_ Ben _

Rey sank down, kneeling in the tall grass, the letter falling from her hand. Her heart thudded in her chest, emotions warring so fiercely that she couldn’t breath. There was relief, because he loved her, but that knowledge did nothing to diminish the hurt caused by his leaving, in fact, it exacerbated it, and underneath it all her anger simmered. How could anyone do this to someone they loved? 

Without thinking, almost by instinct, Rey picked up the letter and rose. She set out on foot down the road she’d ridden with Ben so many times, through the grove, past the overlook and the orchard and the fields, past the little school house, closed tight for the summer, and finally, around the inlet and up to the yellow house with the red shutters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.
> 
>  
> 
> Sort of.


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn’t until Rey reached her destination that she hesitated.  The house was so much larger than it appeared from a distance, larger than any home Rey had ever been inside.  She had only met Leia Organa-Solo once, and she had never sought Rey out or invited her over even after Rey befriended her son. What could she possibly say to her now? Rey looked down at the letter, clutched in her hand. She really had little to say, but she had plenty to ask. 

Rey walked around to the back of the house, where she found Ben’s mother standing on the porch, looking out at the ocean. Rey was struck by how small this woman was, especially in comparison to her tall, broad-chested son. She wore grey, and her hair was done in an elaborate series of braids. 

She turned her big brown eyes on Rey, and they were filled with sadness. “Rey Niima,” she said. “I wondered if you’d come. I thought about sending for you, but I wasn’t sure you’d accept.”

In answer, Rey walked up the porch steps and held out the letter. Mrs. Organa-Solo took it and sat down on a bench, taking out a pair of reading glasses.  She smiled as she recognized her son’s handwriting, but her smile faded as she read.

“That silly, silly boy,” she said when she came to the end. She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief, carefully folded the letter and stood, handing it back to Rey. “I’m so terribly sorry, my dear.” 

Rey took back the letter. “Do you know where he is?”

“Yes.”

“And you aren’t going to tell me.”

“I’m tempted, but I don’t know what good it would do. Would you go to him?”

“I don’t know. What did he tell you before he left?”

She patted the seat beside her and Rey sat down. “He didn’t tell me very much at all, only that he needed to get away. He’s always been torn, between wanting to see the world, and wanting to hide away here. I told him it was a mistake, leaving you so abruptly, but I never imagined he hadn’t told you he was leaving.”

“Mrs. Organa--”

“Please call me Leia.”

Rey nodded and attempted a small smile. “Leia, I’ve spent the last two weeks thinking...I don’t even know what I was thinking, because everything that happened seemed impossible. I thought perhaps I dreamed what happened between us that last day. Then I thought I must have done something horrible, by letting him kiss me, and I was so embarrassed. I stayed away from town because I thought that everyone knew I’d been jilted, and then I’d laugh at myself because he didn’t make any promises, so could I even say I was jilted?”

“Rey, I’m so very sorry. I can say, that even without this letter as proof, I know that his kissing you meant you were very precious to him. He’s never been one to take these things lightly.”

Rey couldn’t help but scoff at this. “I’d say there’s plenty of evidence to contradict that.”  

“What has he told you about his childhood?”

“Not a lot. Stories and anecdotes here and there, but it seemed to pain him.”

Leia sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Ben was such a bright, inquisitive child. From the time he could crawl it seemed I couldn’t keep up. He never seemed to get tripped up on his skirts the way most children did, and by the time he was in short pants, there were days I wouldn’t see him from breakfast until supper. And so imaginative! The stories he would tell as soon as he could talk!”

“I’m sure they were marvelous,” Rey said. 

“Everything changed when he started school. He was always tall for his age, and skinny, if you can believe it. They made fun of his ears, and after they read ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow’ in class, they took to calling him Ichabod Crane.”

“Oh, no!” As angry as she was, Rey’s heart ached for young Ben. She knew too well how it felt to be an outsider.

“Of course,” Leia continued, “It didn’t help that he was already different, outside of his looks. The Methodists and Presbyterians may have their own petty squabbles but they’ll unite in an instant against what they perceive as a common enemy. They’re always  civil to us in public, but they pass their prejudice on to their children without even trying.”

“I’ve seen plenty of that, unfortunately.” It had been her greatest challenge as a teacher, trying to nip bullying and ostracizing in the bud. 

“I sincerely thought it would get better. He took to writing down his stories and escaping into his imagination, but soon even that wasn’t enough, and he started fighting. So, I pulled him out of school here, and sent him to his uncle in Charlottetown to complete his education.  My brother Luke is a scholar, and there are more of our people there.”

“Did things get better?”

“For awhile.  My brother had a plan to bring education to the frontier. There are so many little settlements without any kind of school. Luke wanted to go to those towns, help build schools, recruit teachers, and once the school was established, move on to the next settlement. Ben was drifting, not sure what he wanted to do other than write, but not making enough money with it to set out on his own. I thought that he might find both inspiration and purpose if he accompanied his uncle.  It seemed to work, for awhile, based on his letters home.

“Five years into it, they were in a town in Manitoba, when a young woman disappeared. It took quite a while for anyone to notice, as her parents were out of town to attend a funeral, and she was a homebody.  She and Ben had been friendly; she was French and he used to tutor her in English, though always with someone else present. Unfortunately, he was the last person she was seen with. He denied knowing anything about her disappearance, and was obviously quite concerned, but he didn’t have a good alibi, as he spent much of his time alone, either wandering on the prairie or writing in his room.”

Hearing this, Rey remembered how quick he had been to distance himself from her when they met and he thought she was a student, almost as if he’d been afraid. “Did they accuse him of...of hurting her?”

Leia nodded, her eyes brimming. “Out on the frontier, there’s no real justice system. There’s rarely a constable or sheriff for miles. Things looked bad for him, and Ben thought they should leave, even though the school wasn’t finished. Luke and Ben argued about it, and in the course of things, it became obvious that Luke wasn’t entirely convinced of Ben’s innocence. The fight turned physical, and even after Luke retreated, Ben destroyed much of their work in the schoolhouse in anger. Then he ran.”

Leia stopped, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes. She looked out at the sea as she continued. “There was talk of forming a posse to go after him, but in the midst of it, a telegram came from the young woman. She’d run away to Winnipeg with a Bible salesman to get married.”

Rey was dumbfounded. What was it with young women and running away to be married? “Why didn’t she tell anyone?”

“Her mother and father would have stopped her, I’m sure, and if she’d left a note someone might have caught up with them before they arrived.”

“What happened to Ben, and your brother?”

“No one heard from Ben for years after that, and I had all but given up hope. Then, two years ago, he came home. He was so thin, with long hair and a beard, dressed like a fisherman. He slept for two days, woke up, shaved, dressed in the clothes that were still in his wardrobe, and asked me to cut his hair. He told me what happened and said that he had been wandering for the past five years, but wouldn’t go into much detail. What details I did get filled in the gaps from Luke’s story, but it upset him when I pressed for answers, so I stopped pressing.”

Rey looked down at her hands, unsure how to feel. 

“Rey, I want you to know how much of a change came over him after he began spending time with you. There was a sweetness, a lightness to him that I hadn’t seen since he was a young boy. If he said he loves you in the letter, then I know it’s true.”

Rey looked up, her anger unfurling in her again like a banner. “If that’s true, why would he leave? Why would he ever think he doesn’t deserve me. I’m a nobody.”

“He doesn’t talk to me about these things, but I think that sometimes, it’s easy to start believing what other people believe about us, if we hear it often enough. He may feel as though, if people could so easily believe he would hurt a young woman, and since people have been telling him he’s unwanted all his life, that they see something inside him that he’s not aware of. I’m afraid that our sending him away may have contributed to that feeling, though that wasn’t our intent at all. And, he hasn’t said this out loud, but I believe he blames himself for his father’s death, for causing stress when he disappeared.”

“Are you in contact with him?”

“He hasn’t written and I don’t have an exact address.”

That was it, then. Rey would either do what Ben said and move on, or not. Either way involved her sitting with this horrible pain indefinitely, and she found herself on the verge of bubbling over with the storm of emotions in her heart. 

“I should go,” she said, standing. The last thing she wanted was to cry in front of Leia, especially the sort of sobbing, ugly crying she was certain was on the horizon. That was best done in her room, with the pillow over her head so that no one would hear. She couldn’t bear anyone being kind to her right now. A gentle touch might make her completely fall apart. 

Leia tried to convince her to stay and have some tea, but Rey escaped, apologizing as she went down the steps. She had dreamed so many times of meeting Ben’s mother and sitting at her table, that she couldn’t bear doing it under these circumstances. 

“Rey,” Leia said.

Rey stopped and turned around. Leia smiled.  

“You’re somebody. Don’t ever believe otherwise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the response to the last chapter! I was so nervous about posting it, and the comments helped so much with that. If i haven't gotten to your individual comment yet, I promise I will ASAP.


	8. Chapter 8

As spring matured into a golden summer, the fog around Rey lifted, somewhat, though the world wouldn’t quite recover the depth or breadth of color and sound and sensation as before. The new boarders, Rose and Finn, were delightful and kind. They accepted Rey into their circle of lively artists and musicians, and Rey’s loneliness was slightly less acute. She couldn't always bear it, however, being around two people so in love, so devoted to each other. At times, when they would sit in the parlor in the evenings, Rey might look up from her book or mending and catch a glimpse of Rose looking at Finn in adoration, or Finn squeezing Rose’s hand, and the pain would come back so intensely that it would take her breath away, and she would need to excuse herself. 

As the summer dwindled, Rey accompanied her new friends to church picnics and teas, to beach excursions and bonfires, all the while feeling as though she were only half in her body. At the end of summer, Finn and Rose departed, eliciting promises from Rey to come see them during the Christmas break. 

The only boarder at Takodana again, Rey settled into a sedentary loneliness, only leaving the house for school and church. She would have stopped going to church, but that surely would have led to the loss of her job. It absolutely galled her to sit in the sanctuary with people who pretended to exude Christian virtue, when many of those same people had been responsible for sowing the seeds of self hatred in Ben Solo, and she could hardly bear their looks of pity. 

As the weather grew colder, Maz began forcing Rey to spend time out of doors, telling her she needed the wind on her face, to give her cheeks color and stoke her appetite. Maz fretted over Rey’s picked over plates, being unable to tempt Rey with even the most decadent of cakes and heartiest of roast dinners. 

At first, she only sat in the garden reading, wrapped up in her quilt, but eventually restlessness got the best of her and she began walking to the shore. The grey sea fit her mood, and she would wrap her shawl around her body and stare out at the waning sun until her hands went numb. 

One afternoon near the end of September, on one such excursion, she turned to go home, when she spotted a tall figure coming over the dunes. Ben stopped and took his hat off, holding it in his hands, and Rey thought she might be torn to shreds from the onslaught of feeling the sight of him elicited. She had not dared to imagine what she would do if she saw him again, so she was wholly unprepared. She didn’t know, until now, that you could love someone so desperately while also wanting to kick them sharply in the shin. She stood, frozen, and he walked down the dune to meet her. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Solo,” she said, squaring her shoulders. 

“Rey--”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

He winced and looked away, as though she had struck him. Rey herself felt stung, surprised at the breadth of her anger. She felt hot with it, the wind whipping around her doing nothing to cool it, and the fact that underneath it all she loved him to distraction only served to stoke that fire further. 

“Did you get my letter?”

Rey laughed bitterly. “Yes. A bit later than you planned, but even if I’d received it the same day you left, it would only have spared me two week’s worth of confusion, but not a bit of heartache. How dare you presume to make a decision like that for me?”

“What?”

“You made a choice that wasn't yours to make. You decided that you weren’t good enough for me, and that was up to  _ me  _ to decide.”

“I--” he started, then closed his mouth. He looked away again, blinking, and Rey’s heart swelled. When he looked at her, his eyes were glossy and his lip trembled. 

“I didn’t think of it that way, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That's why I came back, to tell you how sorry I am, and to make it right. I went to Toronto, and at first I was just there wandering around, trying to write, thinking about contacting a publisher who was interested in a book a few years ago. But, everywhere I looked, I thought I saw you, or that you would be around every corner, or waiting for me in the next cafe I went into. It was like a waking dream, or a nightmare. Then, three days ago, it was like I woke up and I knew I couldn’t go on without trying to repair this, to repair the harm I’ve cause you and my uncle, and my mother. I should never have left, and I will regret that until I die, that I threw away that time with you, possibly threw away any future with you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up.”

They stood looking at each other, with the roar of the waves and the cry of birds filling the silence, until Rey could bear it no longer. “You knew,” she sobbed. “I told you--confided in you, about how afraid I am of people leaving me, and you still left. I accept your apology, but I won’t stand it, no matter how pretty your words are. I won’t skulk around afraid all the time that you’ll change your mind again.”

Ben closed his eyes, and the tears that had been welling spilled down his cheeks, but Rey hardened her heart and moved past him, toward the dunes, and the road home. 

“Do you want to know the ending, to Aurelia and Benjamin’s story?” he asked. 

Rey stopped, but did not turn to him. “It’s a fairy tale,” she said, “and I’m not a little girl anymore.” 

She continued on her way, and he didn’t follow. Though tears coursed freely down her face, she waited until she had locked herself in her room to truly cry.

* * *

 

As the weeks wore on, Rey abandoned her walks on the beach, due to the deepening cold, and the sensation of being too exposed, in view of his house, though surely too far away for anyone to discern the identity of a solitary soul wandering the shore. 

She soon began to crave the outdoors, however, found herself going to the tree, at first to relive the fleeting happiness she experienced there that summer evening, and later, to create new memories surrounding it. As the leaves turned red, then golden, then brown, as they began to fall, she felt the sadness loosen from her heart and begin to fall away, so that she was left with only the dullest ache. 

Ben stayed away, and while part of her was grateful he respected her wishes, a small, traitorous part of her felt a measure of disappointment that he had evidently given up so easily. She thought, perhaps, that she should go to him, but every time she set out in that direction, she found herself turning back. 

On an October Sunday, she sat on the same branch where they shared their first kiss, with a sheaf of her students’ essays in hand and a flask of hot cocoa at her side. The essays varied from the almost comically pathetic to the inspired, every one entertaining in its own way. After finishing a particularly dreadful one, she looked up to see Ben striding across the meadow, full of purpose.  Her heart leapt into her throat and she stood up, letting the papers fall to the ground. She looked around, but there was nowhere to hide as the leaves were thin and she wore deep purple dress. She thought momentarily about running, but instead, she stooped to pick up the essays and shoved them in her bag. When she stood, he had reached the tree. She cursed herself for a fool. She should have known he would come here eventually. Had she, somewhere deep down, counted on that? 

“I was just finishing up, sorry to intrude,” Rey stammered. 

“I don’t own this land. We’re both technically trespassers.”

“Of course, but still--”

“Maz told me you were here.”

“Oh.” Rey said. She’d told Maz not to meddle, but perhaps her landlady had grown weary of her incessant moping. 

“It’s only--I’m going away again, and I wanted to tell you myself, even if you don’t care anymore.”

Rey stared at him, unable to comprehend, her stomach full of lead. “No,” she said. 

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t go.” Rey had no idea where these words came from, but for the first time in months, she felt fully alive, and in her body, and her entire being was screaming at her to make him stay, that she would surely die if he left the island without her. 

“Why?” he asked, softly, stepping toward her as he would toward a spooked pony. His eyes were bright but wary, hope barely surfacing in his expression. 

Rey closed the distance between them, reaching up to take his face in her hands. “Why would you ever think you didn’t deserve me? You’re the sweetest, kindest man I’ve ever met, with the biggest heart. I know what monsters men can be and you aren’t one. You never could be. And it's not like I'm perfect! I’m short tempered and impatient and I can’t make a good cup of tea to save my life. So you’re going to stay here and fight with me and drink my horrible tea, do you understand?”

Gingerly, he took her hands in his and held them near his heart. “When you put it that way, how could any man resist?”

“Tell me the end of the story," Rey said. 

Ben smiled, and Rey basked in the warmth of it, glorying at the dimples that appeared in his cheeks. 

“As Benjamin grew older, he forgot about Aurelia, and he stayed away much longer than he promised. When he did remember her, it was as if she had been another of his imaginary friends, a childhood fancy to smile about wistfully. When he finally came home, he found himself drawn again to the end of the jetty at sunrise. Aurelia found herself drawn to him also, though she was horribly cross with him for staying away so long, and dreadfully hurt when he didn’t remember her.”

She looked up at him, brow furrowed. “I thought you said it had a happy ending.”

“Hush, and let me finish.”

Pressing her lips together, Rey nodded. 

“Aurelia began to tell him all the stories of how they played together when they were younger, and sing him the old songs, and gradually, as the sun rose fully, it all came back to him, and it all made sense, why he had never fallen in love with any of the beautiful girls he met when he was away. He promised Aurelia to come back to the sea with her, but this time, he made sure to tell his mother goodbye. They lived happily ever after, but Benjamin made sure to visit his mother on her birthday.”

Rey laughed, certain that last part had been tacked on.  “Now, tell me what you said in your letter?”

“Which part, that I'm sorry? Because I am."

“No, the other thing.”

His eyes grew serious and it seemed as though everything around them fell away as he looked at her. “I love you, Rey Niima,” he said. 

She had read this truth in the letter, but now looking in his eyes, she saw this truth. She heard this truth, and it would echo forever in her own heart as long as she lived.

“I love you, Ben Solo.”

He took her in his arms, and the beautiful tree, which over two centuries had witnessed and sheltered the joy and sorrow of countless children, and had been the backdrop of many a lover's tryst and quarrel, witnessed a union of souls like none that came before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so much for following along on this indulgence. It was so nice to write something this soft and sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the playlist for this fic [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/soyeahso/playlist/7g6ym8LUGNtySYrOigGPyL?si=3Bd3SpeVRhu5xe5oApidOw)


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